Recompense
by TheSilverSleeper
Summary: "So he made his decision. This was the only way. Perhaps it was the cowardly way out, but it was the only final way." Post 2.13


**A/N: I couldn't sleep last night, so instead of working on my NaNo or studying for my test like a semi-intelligent person, I wrote this one-shot. Which may get a second piece later (way later, like a month from now) if I feel like it, because I do have an idea where to go with it.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin anymore than I own sanity.**

* * *

They were gone. All of them, everyone, gone.

It was his fault. He knew it like he knew frigid cold brought snow. He was the common factor. He brought it on them. Every single time, with every single person.

It had been three months. Three months and three deaths. If you didn't count the three hundred more. They just wouldn't stop.

First had been Freya. Sweet, innocent Freya. Doomed from the outset but so determined not to be. She could have been jaded. It would have been so easy for her to be, so cruelly hunted all her life for something so beyond her control. She could have run away that first night the moment he set her free from the cage, yet she stayed and set his heart abloom. It had been the first time he had been truly happy in years. The first time he could talk to someone and have them _understand_. She was his princess, and perhaps that should have been his first clue.

Because then the clock struck twelve and as the bards say no fairy tale can last forever.

Then there was Morgana. Oh, but Morgana was always meant to break his heart. He'd known that from the moment he first laid eyes on her. Probably someone had even tried to flat out warn him, but when had he ever listened to common sense? She was danger and forbidden and she drove him crazy and he loved her. Maybe he should have told her that before she quenched her thirst for love somewhere else.

There were a lot of things he should have done when it came to Morgana.

He hadn't even had time to mourn her when he let the dragon go. Oddly, he counted that amongst his biggest regrets: next time he would give himself a day. Or perhaps at least the time it took to finish eating his evening meal. Because then it would have been one day or one hour or even one minute less that children in the lower town and knights on the battlements and guards in the streets might not have been dying, roasting to death in the flames of his failure.

It would have been even less time, of course, if his father had been there. But no, that was not to be either. He couldn't have that. That would good. He didn't deserve something so positive. So fate had taken it away from him. Because always his magic had been enough to keep himself safe. That it wasn't this time meant something. He wasn't meant to have this. This was a sign.

It was time for him to finally listen to the signs. Before anyone else got hurt.

He thought again of the ones who burned. That was supposed to be him. That was Uther's new favourite punishment for sorcerers, after all. He seemed to have abandoned beheadings in the last year. So he should be the one in the fire.

Him. Merlin. Not Freya. Not Morgana. Not Balinor.

Merlin.

Magic. That's what it always it always came down to, wasn't it? That was the other link that held those three to him, that they all suffered and died for who they were. To tame the monster blood within. They hid and smiled and postured -well perhaps Balinor had never postured- in the hopes that those without magic would let them live.

And in the end it was the most powerful magician of all who killed them.

So he made his decision. This was the only way. Perhaps it was the cowardly way out, but it was the only final way. The only one no one could -or would- stop. Of course, Gaius would be disappointed. Gwen would be outraged. And Arthur... he didn't want to think about what Arthur would feel.

But really, they should all be relieved. He was a menace to society, after all.

Merlin had to plan it well. This could not be a private affair. Not only did he not deserve the dignity of that, but some people -Arthur, Gwen- might not believe it. Their belief wouldn't matter in the end, but it might help them sort through their grief faster. That was important. That was the point, wasn't it, to stop making others suffer because of him? But then, Merlin was still as important as a dung beetle. He could not simply call for his very own audience with the king, even for a matter as crucial as this. Which meant he would have to watch and wait.

The time came during a simple council meeting. There were plenty of people around. Arthur was there, but Gwen was not. That was okay; it was probably better this way. Arthur would tell her it was true, and she would be hurt less for not having to see it herself. Uther was there as well, and he was the most important in the end. If it was just Arthur, he might have a chance to get out of this. He might change his mind.

Merlin saw his moment and stepped forward to claim it, setting the picture of water down on the table with a heavy thud.

"Your majesty, I have something to tell you."

Every head in the room swung to eye him with shock as if he had just announced the sky had turned green. Arthur glared fiercely at him and tried to sweep a leg out sneakily to kick him. Merlin didn't even feel it, though it probably left a bruise.

"It cannot wait. You'll understand why in a moment."

Now Arthur looked ready to push him out the window. Gaius frowned. He shook his head minutely. He must have sensed something in his ward's voice. Merlin felt badly that he had to be here for this, but it couldn't be helped.

He'd just add it to the list.

"Boy, do you have some special love for the stocks? Maybe we should have a set installed in your rooms. Or perhaps that has lost its charms? Perhaps a flogging might finally get something to stick in that incredibly dull mind of yours."

"_Mer_lin, _shut up_!" Arthur growled under his breath.

But Merlin was beyond listening. "I don't think you want to flog me, my lord."

"Oh, really?" Uther hissed challengingly. The king had been in a grand mood since Morgana had been taken -killed. She was dead, thanks to him, though no one else knew it. Perhaps he should tell them as a last gesture, give them some closure. But for now Merlin meant to take advantage of the king's temper.

"No. I think you want to kill me." And with that he let his eyes glow gold, and a butterfly burst from his clenched palm.

As the guards led him from the room to the still gaping mouths of those gathered within, Merlin couldn't help but smile at last.

"I'll see you soon, my loves."


End file.
